It's Raining In Hell
by PurpleYin
Summary: Everyone expects Harry Potter to be the one to challenge HeWhoShallNotBeNamed but what if he isn't? There's more to life than the fight for good and evil as one girl knows. Who would have thought it would be poor little Ginny Weasley? Well things hav


Disclaimer: No I don't own Harry Potter etc. J K Rowling does. But the poetry is definitely mine, and only mine.

Author's Note: Another short fic I got drawn into whilst supposedly taking a break from writing. As an Important note I do know that the thing this is based on is not canon, therefore it will look like a very unrealistic piece, but the idea was too good to not try to write. So what you have to read is a very dark conclusion to the wizarding world's problem and all based on two things, a)that what we know of what the killing curse is, is wrong (in this fic only) and b)there's someone who it applies to, who knows how to apply it, rather fatally. Anyway, hope you enjoy. Am aware this is probably a very confusing fic. I think its more the idea that's confusing. Anyway, please, please review, as I'd love to know what you think of this. 

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_It's Raining In Hell_

~

Everyone needs

Everyone needs a love

That drives them

But what it drives them to...

That's luck

That's fate

That's not found until too late

Everyone needs

Everyone needs love

But it's not always from above

Sometimes what you want

Isn't nice

And sometimes

Isn't right

Isn't good

And sometimes what you need

Is denied

Sometimes what you need

Makes you cry

Makes you want to die

To curse it all

To where you are

To what you feel

Letting everyone fall

For the sins placed on one

~

The petite silhouette of a blackened mood moved through the many halls. Each time she burst inwards the doors buckled from her force. Her face was traced with signs of a malleable loathing for her target.

A male figure crippled with her actions, following her and half-apologising along the way to the officious doormen in such a manner that was unbefitting of his stature. All the while he held a foolish scowl to the task. She could tell he hated every minute of the catastrophe she was causing. She simply didn't care at that.

As she saw him, he was but a boy in a world that was so much more than even he could know. Whatever misfortune he'd had in life, nothing could prepare him the memories she had inside of her. And those same memories were what brought her to this place, to what was her dream and nightmare in one.

She approached the final door, her companion winced as she reached for the door and called out to her – a warning that she totally ignored.

No, she thought, it was the person within these doors she was to open that needed to be told beware, because he would up until the moment she entered be utterly unknowledgeable about what was to befall him.

And with a last flex of her uncannily strong muscles, the great woods moved to reveal the chamber of Lord Voldemort.

He sat with a gracious ambivalence on his face, as she, a simple pretty redhead stalked up to his petty throne.

Draco Malfoy ran in after her, desperate to quell the damage she might have done to them both by such a disobedience to the wonderful guy that was Thomas riddle.

She preferred him by that name. It was after all his true name and the name she was first confronted with when she had met those years ago. That name was the tender script that had punctured her heart and had inoculated her to his affects and too, to his charms.

"What is such a beautiful young lady doing in my private room?"

He held out a hand, pondering the question in his condescending manner. His eyes, tickled with a torturous humour behind the guise of humility to her.

She stated her purpose bluntly to him, not hesitating for one moment.

"I have come to do justice." 

He grinned, with the slit that was his mouth.

"And who do you think you can do justice for? The world? For all the '_wrongs_' I have committed? Learn now my dear that everything is for power, there is nothing but that… and there can be no fairness to power. Only those who have and those who do not."

She grinned back at him equally devilishly.

"And what would you say if I had double the amount needed to bring you down? Would you smile saccharinely at my imprudence or would you sardonically tease such a bold child?"

He had not been expecting that, yet he replied with ease.

"I would say you'd be extremely fortunate to leave this place sane let alone unharmed. I will not tolerate disrespectful beings to my presence."

Her eyes darkened further at his comment. Her heart skipped its beat faster in anger.

"You say such things as if you have a choice"

Voldemort got up, rising with an impatience rarely seen in him but by his followers.

"You presume that you, a child could challenge me. That you could defeat the most powerful wizard of the last century."

She pursed her lips in amusement, chiding him back.

"Oh, but you forget there was Harry Potter, who was even less that I. And there shall always be Albus Dumbledore to hold your supposed title. You on the other hand will never be anymore than the most pitiful wizard in history, judging by your cowardly deeds"

He flew up from his position, his whole body flailing in rage at Her. He looked like he wished to chew her up and spit her out but that he had more dignity than to be touted by a teenage girl.

Instead he reached for his wand and spoke two words in the urgentest of whispers.

"Avada Kedavra"

And a thin film of green radiance dissipated over her body, leaving her standing with a small smile playing at him.

He was for a minute speechless. This time she took her opportunity to explain, to exposition the reasons why. Why it was that she, the most unlikely opponent to the dark lord would be here, hanging tightly to her bitterness in the eternal hope she would be the one to take him down.

"You wouldn't remember me. Five years ago, rather separate from what is now you. I met the earlier you. Thomas Riddle. And I fell in love despite everything. It was with his manipulations that made me his forever, and indebted to you in my heart. He made me into the darkest of places. His spirit, that I detest so, lingered and I found myself defending you of all…_people_. Between you, you ruined all I had, my whole life is in tatters. My friends, family, the whole of those I love hate me for trying yet again to stop them. For I could never quite grasp what you were. My thoughts stayed with poor old tom, with what you could be. I mistakenly thought you could be saved, that I know today as foolish but I then sabotaged their best effort to kill you. In doing that I brought upon the death of one of my elder brothers. They forever despised me for it, never trusting me again and so rightly because it was only that I loved you, wanted you as I could remember from the diary. The diary you may have heard, Lucius planted for me in my second year, the one you made fifty years previously. Does any of this ring a bell?" she spat the words out venomously to the stunned Voldemort, whose demeanour belayed detachment from what was happening.

She laughed cruelly at him.

"What, don't you believe it? That I Ginny Weasley could resist the killing curse. Just so you know I figured it out, what they don't tell us at school. What they themselves don't understand. Its not simply death in a parcel, its your worst nightmare come true in such devastating consequence that you die of terror in that moment. With a little thud as she hit the floor on your way down, completely unmarked of course because its merely in your head, your mind. But it's enough to kill. Unless like me, your nightmare has come true. It happened the day I realised what you'd created of my soul, the affect your tenuous controlling had had. That was the day last year when I knew where I'd steered to. The path that meant all but Draco here and likewise slytherins may I add, hated me with vengeance. I was the worst possible person I have ever had the potential to be. From then on you had no power over me. No one did. That Tom is why your lithe little curse cannot work on me."

He glanced to her, and she saw his greedy glare of a dark mischief.

"And no, you have absolutely no power over me. Not a single spell you know can touch what you designed. And, as I'm sure you're assessing, Malfoy means nothing to me. He is but my unlucky instrument in getting to you." She turned to see Draco's face, which for once showed signs of uncertainty and fear. 

"Don't fret Malfoy," she said with a brutal quality " I never loved you, true, but I doubted at the best of your times that you ever loved me either. Such is the way of beasts like you and me… and him" she said as she looked back to the noxious Voldemort. 

Draco fled out of the room, in fear she thought of her as much as his master. She for a second regretted having to use Draco in her scheme but life for her could be much worse than that uncomplicated heartbreak he might be suffering. And the implications of what she came here for were greater than for a thing like that to matter.

She spied that Thomas Riddle; Voldemort was paled and sickly at some idea. Probably the one she'd expressed, that he could be so powerless to one individual. In a way too that could never be cured or remedied.

He looked to be about to call for his loyal servant. His mouth made moments she detected before a sound had come out.

And she had in that time, enough to fling the doors shut without a single magical word. Her power was that determined abhorrence for him and what he'd put her through.

"Ironic isn't it," she purred as she approached him " that you are to die in the hands of me, not nearly as honourable as defeated by the boy who lived, the tried and tested process. Instead you get a humbling death, mundane in means and painfully slow in method and all too someone you value least. But then they do say you should watch out for the quiet ones."

She smiled as he succumbed, paralysed, to her potent grip.

She could recall later that his face stared beyond her as the air ceased to flow in his lungs. That he did not attempt to say one last final word, nor struggle in any feeble manner. 

She too had said nothing, done nothing more than hold herself steady, continuing what was started. Ending the saga that had been for more than she cared for.

She had cried, though, showing one last vestige of real emotion that was other than as dark as he. 

 She had not resisted either as she had been taken away afterwards. You'd have thought that she bringing down the most hated dark lord of the century would be praised by all. Her parents only looked at her with sadness in their eyes. She knew exactly why. 

She was not their daughter any more. Their daughter hadn't been the one to conquer the deatheaters and the like. What had done that was a unique mixture of darkness and love, part of her former self and part mostly of that which she had killed. It was more so that love had been what had killed him, love gone wrong and as well, the parts of her that had been him. As if he in me, could not tolerate injustice done on what there was of himself nor the competition the real Voldemort presented.

All in all, I think the history books will say he was defeated by a slip of a girl, gone crazy. 

When the truth is he brought his defeat upon himself, proud of what he'd done but it was that all his actions had caused that day to be. He made me and I made us, and we lashed that pride right out of him. And he was forever fallen from his high horse, losing a footing all because he forgot the earnest lesson there is.

~


End file.
